


Merry Christmas

by zanitari



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Gen, Jisung is a poor baby and needs to be protected, but i kinda don't want to leave him sad like that, i might just leave it as it is, idk where i'm going w/ this, this is really short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:55:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21954736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanitari/pseuds/zanitari
Summary: It's Christmas Eve and Jisung is not exactly having the time of his life trying to run away from his problems. Oh, and the elevator is broken.
Kudos: 11





	Merry Christmas

Jisung was running. He was out of breath but kept running up the stairs to his apartment. He wouldn't have to run up the 4th floor if it wasn't for the damn elevator that decided to fuck up specifically today, that is on Christmas Eve. 

Then again, the elevator ride might've been more suffocating than how he feels right now. Because he would be trapped there and now he can at least run, even if he won't be able to escape in the end. Just two more floors and he'll be safe in his little apartment. Safe to finally let his emotions burst like a pot of boiling water that he's been trying to keep under a lid. He'll be safe for the tears that were blurring his sight to stream down his cheeks and drip on his floor and wet his sweater sleeves.

His number one hater, the universe, must have heard his thoughts because at the exact moment Jisung's blurry vision failed him and he missed a step. He managed to throw his hands to meet the floor first instead of his face, but he hit it hard with his right knee. A pained groan followed as Jisung put weight on that knee and got up. Fuck, this shit hurted. And his phone... Thanks to whatever guardian angel or any other good forces he'd put it in his back pocket before and it was still there, safe and sound. 

Maybe Jisung hadn't realised earlier but he surely did now - he really was out of breath. He bent down, hands on knees, trying to breath and rubbing his poor knee which was hurting like a bitch. It can't be broken, right? Fuck this, even if it was he couldn't care less. Now there are only 10 steps separating him from his crying session and nothing can stop him now. He'd put up with so much crap these last few days and he managed to keep his cool during all of it. But there's not a thing in this world that simply disappears and surely this also concerns emotions.

Jisung hates emotions. Well, he mostly hates the negative ones but in fact they are the ones he experiences the most as of late. He doesn't even want to think about it. But he's already used up all of his ability to ignore and stuff down all of it inside when the flask was already full and now it's threatening to spill everything out. Jisung knew it would happen. It's always the same, it feels almost like a routine now. Perhaps more like a season that comes and passes.

He took the remaining steps, steadying himself on the rail while searching his pockets for a key. Relieved, he found it in his left pocket. Limping, he made it to his door and opened it in a rush.

The first thing he did after closing it was to collapse to the floor in the hallway. At this moment he probably looked similar to a fish taken out of water. Breathing hardly, desperately trying to catch air in his lungs. He lay like that for a minute or so, his breath slowly returning to it's normal pace. He then pulled himself up and not bothering to turn the lights on, walked straight to his bedroom.

For a few moments he just stood there, surrounded by the darkness and silence of his room. The window curtains were half-open, illuminating weak light from the moon and streetlamps outside. It was then. In that exact moment he felt his flask spilling all of it's contents it couldn't contain anymore. His eyes were so full of water, he couldn't see anything now. The first tear dripped from his eye and slid down his cheek. The second followed and the third fell straight from his eye to the floor. 

He longed for this moment. He ran here like an idiot just to crouch on the floor and cry alone but yet. Jisung hated himself for crying. Even though there was no one to witness him like that, no one to judge him or try to comfort him, he hated himself for not being able to contain it. Why is he crying when it's all his own stupid fault anyway? Why can't he just acknowledge the fact he sucks and become stronger instead? Why can't he be the way he wants to see himself?

Fuck.

Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.

His sobbing was getting harder and the voice in his head getting louder. Repeating the same questions over and over and asking new ones. Reminding him of what he did wrong, torturing him with insinuations of what else he could had. Coming up with ideas of what he can mess up in the future and different shit that he might have to deal with. He'd probably fuck it up again, though. 

That's how Jisung's night goes by until he eventually moves from the floor to his bed and falls asleep on a pillow wet from his tears and with his eyes hurting.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so. I'm not sure what this is. I wrote it after yesterday's Christmas Eve and I kinda felt like posting it would be a good idea ? Uh, is it though... For the record, this is my first time ever posting something I wrote and it hasn't been proofread or anything so if there are grammar mistakes, I'm sorry. English is not my first language, I just write in English for fun lol


End file.
